Words From His Past
by OniRoo
Summary: Harry deals with the events at the end of the fifth book during his summer. This story is complete, and it contains spoilers. Contains some mild language. To read "The Marauders Read Words From His Past," check it out at harrypotterfanfiction.com. Pen


Words From His Past

Harry Potter stared blankly at the floor in front of him, sitting on his trunk at the end of his four-poster bed in the fifth year boys' dormitory of Gryffindor Tower at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He hadn't packed yet, all of his things lay strewn around his bed, and the Hogwarts Express was departing in a little less than 8 hours for London.

The grief of losing his godfather was so new, so raw. He was running out of reasons for Sirius Black to return, and was unwillingly working his way towards the idea that Sirius was, in fact, gone. He didn't want to believe Remus Lupin the night Sirius fell through the Veil at the Department of Mysteries. He didn't want to believe Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor House Ghost, when he told Harry that Sirius would choose to move on, and not to leave behind a shadow of his former existence. His only hope was the words of Luna Lovegood...she had heard voices behind that veil too. Unfortunately, Luna was known around Hogwarts for believing in anything, especially if it didn't exist. But, she had been right about the Thestrals...

Harry sank so deeply into his own thoughts that he didn't notice Professor Dumbledore enter the dormitory. Dumbledore looked on as Harry, face buried in his hands, began to accept the loss of his godfather. Recalling the recent fight he and Harry had in his office immediately following Sirius's death, Dumbledore knew Harry wouldn't want to talk to him, but he had one last task to complete before his students departed for the summer.

Dumbledore looked down at the box in his hands. The rough wood made his pale and long fingered hands look ghostly. There was a hole where there once was a lock. The box was heavy, but not for its contents, the wood was thick and knotted. On top of the box was an inscription that read, "For Harry Potter, my godson, should anything happen to me, Sirius Black".

"Harry?" Dumbledore ventured. "I have something here for you, I daresay you may find it difficult to look through right now, but someday you may wish to view its contents."

Harry looked up at the Headmaster. Dumbledore noticed the boy's face was tearstained and his eyes bloodshot. He gently placed the box in Harry's outstretched hand and turned to leave.

"Professor?" Harry's voice was choked and unsteady. "Is there no way he can be alive?"

Professor Dumbledore sighed, not out of exasperation but out of sadness for Harry. "He is alive, Harry, in the memory of him. Nobody can say what happens to us when we die, but if Sirius remains unforgotten he will be immortal. I do not pretend to understand what you're feeling Harry, but I know it is difficult. I also know you are not alone. There are others who have lost because of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. There are others who cared about Sirius as well. He had many friends throughout his life."

"I've never missed someone more...not even my parents, as horrible as that sounds," Harry replied.

"That's perfectly understandable, and you need not feel guilty for not missing your parents this much. While they are a part of you, you never really got to know them...It's different with Sirius." Harry didn't respond for a while, so Dumbledore got up to leave.

"Professor, what's in this box?"

"I don't know Harry. It's been magically sealed so that only you can open it. I would imagine it's items that meant something to Sirius, and he could think of no better person than his best friend's child and godson to give them to." Dumbledore glanced around the dormitory, at all of Harry's things lying on the floor. With a wave of his hand they disappeared. "They're in your trunk, Harry. I can never concentrate on packing when I'm saddened." With those words Professor Dumbledore departed the dormitory, once again leaving Harry by himself.

Harry ran his fingers over the inscription on the box, reading it over and over for the next half hour. As time carried the morning on, Harry settled on his bed with the box in front of him, and then closed the curtains of his bed. He pointed his wand at the box and muttered, "Nox Colloportus", and the lid of the box creaked open to reveal several small books and sheaves of parchment. Harry picked up the four small books and read the words on the front of each one. "Diary of Lily Evans", "Diary of Lily Potter", "Journal of James Potter", and "Journal of Sirius Black" were the so-called titles of each book. Harry's heart skipped a beat as he held the four books that would reveal to him the world of his parents and godfather. The collection of parchment appeared to be letters and newspaper clippings, many having to do with him, and many of the letters were from him...or to him. He noted that there were sealed letters addressed to him from his mother, father and Sirius. Letters from them that he had not yet read...underneath the letters was a mirror, wrapped just as his own had been that Sirius had given him.

"Harry, aren't you packed yet? The carriages are almost here, hurry up or we'll miss the train!" Ron Weasley, Harry's best friend came bursting into the dormitory. "C'mon, I'll help you bring your stuff down."

Harry hastily closed and sealed the box; he'd save it to look through while he was at Privet Drive. He opened the curtains on his bed. Ron glanced down at the box with a puzzled look. "It's from Sirius." Harry replied, knowing Ron was about to ask. He grasped the box, supporting it under one arm. Ron picked up Hedwig in her cage, and Harry waved his wand at his trunk and said "Locomotor Trunk" and his trunk levitated into the air and followed him and Ron out of the dormitory. Harry glanced around the Gryffindor Common Room, knowing he'd miss it over the next few months. His eyes fell onto the sight of the fire grate, where he had conversed with Sirius's head...He turned away and walked out of the portrait hole before he could dwell on the thought of talking with Sirius.

As he and Ron descended the steps of the Grand Staircase, Harry had mixed feelings about leaving Hogwarts this year. He didn't want to leave to go to Privet Drive because Hogwarts was his home and he hated living at Number Four with his Aunt, Uncle, and cousin. At the same time, everywhere he looked at Hogwarts reminded him of things that had happened in the Wizarding World, Sirius, and the prophecy. He still hadn't told Ron or Hermione about the Prophecy...Hermione would cry and give him a hug, Ron would stare and then go on about how their ex-Divination professor was a fraud, and maybe she was wrong.

He didn't remember walking through the castle, but soon he and Ron walked out the doors to the Entrance Hall and were blinded by the sun as they climbed into a carriage with Hermione and Neville Longbottom. Harry spent the entirety of the carriage ride examining the cover of Sirius's box amidst the silence as his three friends watched, unsure of what they could say to console him.

Aboard the Hogwarts Express, Harry shared a compartment with Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny Weasley, and Luna Lovegood. He glanced around the compartment, from face to face, thinking about the danger he had put them all in, venturing to the Ministry of Magic to find a Sirius that wasn't there... Sirius had come because Harry was in danger. Harry was in danger because he hadn't listened to his godfather. Harry got up and reached above to the luggage rack, and removed the box from Sirius. The others watched as he opened it, removed a wrapped package from underneath the letters, sealed the box and stowed it above the luggage rack once more. Harry beckoned Ron to follow him and proceeded to exit the compartment, walking briskly and searching for an empty compartment. Three cars back he found it and opened the door, and he and Ron entered.

"Colloportus," Harry said, waving his wand at the door to lock it. "Ron, I want you to have this." He handed Ron the package and watched as he unwrapped the mirror that matched the one in Harry's trunk.

"Harry, why are you giving me a mirror?" Ron asked, as though sure that his friend had finally lost it.

"It's not just a mirror, Ron. I have a matching one. They belonged to Sirius and my father; they used them while they were in school. Sirius gave me one at Christmas, and this is the other...he left it to me, and I want you to have it. We can talk to each other simply by looking into the mirror and saying the other person's name," Harry explained, trying not to rush his words.

"Wow, thanks Harry. This is brilliant! But...why didn't we just use these to contact Sirius instead of using Umbridge's fire?" Ron asked, confused.

"Well...I didn't really know what they were. Sirius just handed it to me and said to use it if I needed him. I decided I wouldn't be the one to draw him away from the safety of Grimmauld Place and endanger his life, and I forgot about the mirrors. Lot of good it did...I ended up drawing him out anyway." Harry stared blankly at the ground waiting for Ron's response.

"Harry...I know you think it's your fault, but it isn't. It was Voldemort's fault. Not yours. C'mon, let's go back to the compartment. Oh, promise me you'll carry the other mirror at all times, okay? This is way better than post or the fellytone."

"Telephone."

As they made their way back along the train corridor, Harry felt a bit uplifted, having his best friend on his side and having a surefire way to contact him anytime he needed. With Harry's mood lightened a bit, the remainder of the trip on the Hogwarts Express was much happier, Harry talked and joked with his friends. They had almost reached London when Draco Malfoy and his goons Crabbe and Goyle came to Harry's compartment.

"Found some more people to worship you, Potter? I don't think much of your taste though. Longbottom's almost as dimwitted as a troll and Loony Lovegood...well, I suppose you enjoy worship, no matter where it comes from," Draco remarked, causing Crabbe and Goyle to laugh.

It wasn't more than a second before Draco had six wands pointing at him from inside the compartment, and as he backed out, Harry spotted fear behind Malfoy's eyes, and this made his ride even more enjoyable.

In the backseat of Uncle Vernon's car, feeling better about this coming summer than any thus far because of the words exchanged between the Order members and his uncle, Harry felt at peace. The knowledge that returning to Privet Drive once a year helped to keep him alive made it slightly easier, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he'd be back at the Burrow in a few weeks.

Harry finished bringing his things upstairs to his room at Number Four, Privet Drive and felt something turn cool and then warm in his pocket. He pulled out the mirror that Sirius had given him, and looked at his best friend's face, smiled and said, "Hi Ron!"

After assuring Ron that he had had a surprisingly quiet ride from King's Cross Station to Number Four, Privet Drive, and promising to talk with him later, Harry walked toward his trunk to unpack it. He opened the lid to find a small note lying atop his things that read, "He is never really gone." Harry knew this was from Albus Dumbledore, who must have placed it in his trunk when he packed his things that morning. Harry folded the note and put it beneath the loose floorboard under his bed where he had hidden spell books, quills and ink, cakes, and presents from his friends during previous summers at Privet Drive. His room was small and dark, equipped with only one small lamp on his bedside table that wasn't strong enough to compensate for the setting sun. Harry decided he'd unpack in the morning and reached into his trunk only for his pajamas so that he could change and get to sleep. He placed his wand on his bedside table with the solitary lamp, comforted that it would be within easy reach. He knew that underage wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside of school, but with Lord Voldemort growing stronger, Harry wanted his wand with him at all times, even if it meant possible expulsion.

"Let me go!" Harry struggled against Remus Lupin's grasp. They were in the Department of Mysteries; Harry had just watched Bellatrix Lestrange stun Sirius, causing him to fall behind a very mysterious veil.

"He's gone, Harry...He won't come back. He's gone," Lupin pleaded with Harry, trying to restrain him.

Harry collapsed onto himself. When he looked up he was facing the Fountain of Magical Brethren in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. He could hear Bellatrix mocking his attempt to use the Cruciatious Curse on her. His dream fast-forwarded to being in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, alone, exhausted and empty. Harry's eyes fluttered open.

It was still dark outside, and Hedwig's cage was empty. "Probably gone hunting..." Harry thought. He lay awake on his bed, staring at the blank ceiling, not wanting to return to his dreams of remembering Sirius's death. Sleep took him though, and when he next looked up at his ceiling it was bright white with the sunlight pouring in from his shade-less windows.

He felt groggy and didn't want to leave the comfort of his bed. He heard the flap on his door swing and knew that Aunt Petunia had just delivered his breakfast. As cruel as it seemed, he preferred this way of interacting with the Dursley's as it didn't involve seeing or speaking to them. Their fear of upsetting him had heightened since Uncle Vernon's talk with Mad-Eye Moody and other members of the Order of the Phoenix and Harry supposed that the Dursley's thought it safest to not be in the presence of Harry this summer.

As he sat up, Harry's head cleared slightly, with the exception of the constant yet slight burning of his scar. This didn't worry him though; he expected nothing less now that Voldemort was back. Harry got dressed and began to unpack. He was about half way through when Hedwig glided back through the window, a small mouse clutched in her beak. As she enjoyed her self attained award, Harry took a break from unpacking to write up subscription requests for The Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly, and The Quibbler. He enclosed 3 galleons with each subscription (enough for one month) and sent Hedwig off to deliver the notices. He had decided that he was tired of trying to catch glimpses and suggestions of Voldemort's movements from the Muggle news each day. He didn't care about getting in trouble with the Dursley's, he'd write to Mad-Eye if they gave him trouble over it.

Harry finished his unpacking and then ate the food Aunt Petunia pushed through his door. Cold toast. With nothing on it. Harry decided he'd have to ask his friends for food again. Harry couldn't ask Hermione, she was in America on vacation, though she didn't want to go, in case something happened. He didn't really want to ask Hagrid, because he'd had enough experience to know that while Hagrid always put his heart into everything, his cooking could be dangerous. Harry decided he'd have to ask Ron, though he felt slightly guilty doing that, as Ron had already assured him that he'd be at the Burrow as soon as possible. Avoiding asking Ron to forward him food, Harry sat down on his bed and opened the box from Sirius. He pulled out the sealed letters and opened the one from Sirius first. As he broke the seal, a small key fell out of the letter, which Harry placed to the side before beginning to read.

_Dear Harry,_

_If Professor Dumbledore has given you this letter and my box, then it means I have passed on. I hope it was in a cool way, like fighting Death Eaters. The first thing I want you to know is that I am sorry I had to leave you, and hopefully I have not departed too soon. Listen, it is important that you not grieve over my death. You must try to practice Occlumency so that Voldemort cannot read into your thoughts and feelings. _

_I need to explain the contents of this box to you. The journals are what I thought you might enjoy the most, and they are, for the most part, self-explanatory. Your parents gave them to me when they went into hiding, and I suppose I couldn't bring myself to pass them on to Peter Pettigrew, which I suppose was the one right thing I did in that situation. _

_The letters enclosed in the box are fairly important too. This one is obvious, because it contains my last words to you and information regarding the other items. The sealed letters from your parents to you have been read by no one, and were written to you the day before their deaths, and I found them at their house in Godric's Hollow before I went after Pettigrew. The other letters are correspondences between your parents and myself, and correspondences between you, and myself which I put into this box because I hadn't anywhere else to put them I kept them in case they contained information that might be useful against Voldemort later. The news clippings are something I felt I had to save...I know I wasn't your real father, but I knew James and Lily would have wanted anything about you saved. _

_The mirror is the match to the one I gave you in your fifth year. Feel free to give one of them to whomever you may choose, and you can contact them in the way I described earlier. The key enclosed with this letter belongs to my vault at Gringotts. You are now the keeper of the Black family fortune. That vault also includes the deed to Number 12, Grimmauld Place. You are welcome to live there if you please or continue to allow the Order to use it as Headquarters. You can owl Albus Dumbledore to let him know you're decision, just make sure not to disclose the address in the letter, in case it is intercepted. As Moody would say, Constant Vigilance! _

_That should explain all the contents of this box, Dumbledore has arranged with the Ministry to allow you to use magic to open and seal this box (no other magic until you are no longer underage though). Please make sure you do seal the box and its contents, as it contains still sensitive information._

_Just so you know, Harry, I never once confused you with James, but loved you as though you were my own son. I am sorry for my absences during your life, and wish more than anything else that I could make it up to you. I, like your parents, will continue to watch over you from whatever awaits us on the other side of life, I know you will make us all exceedingly proud._

_Sirius_

Harry looked down at Sirius's signature for a while before he rolled up the letter and placed it back in the box. He wasn't yet ready to read the letters from his parents, but he did want to talk to someone. The easiest person to speak to was Ron, who also happened to be his best friend. He reached over to his bedside table and picked up Sirius's mirror. Looking into it, he clearly spoke the words "Ronald Weasley" and waited a mere ten seconds or so before Ron's concerned face appeared in his mirror.

"Harry, is everything alright? Are the Muggles mistreating you? Should I write to Mad-Eye?" Ron asked each question without giving Harry time to answer.

Harry smiled back and replied, "Everything's okay. The Muggles still can't cook, but are generally leaving me alone, and you don't need to write to Moody." Harry talked to Ron about Sirius's final words, and was cheered up a bit when Ron said he'd send food if Harry would send Hedwig...Pig, Ron's owl, was too small to carry loads of food. Harry continued talking to Ron for about a half hour, settling food plans and joking around. As the afternoon wore on Harry put aside the mirror and closed his eyes to take a nap.

Harry woke up the morning of his third day back at Privet Drive, feeling somewhat refreshed compared to the past couple of days. He heard a tapping at his window, and as he put on his glasses and the outline of four hovering owls became clearer, although Hedwig was not among them. "Probably still at Ron's..." Harry muttered as he stood up and opened the window, admitting the four frustrated birds.

Feeling bad for leaving them outside for a while, Harry gave each owl an Eeylop's Owl Treat before they left their letters and departed. Two of the letters were from members of the Order of the Phoenix, one was from Hermione and the last was from Hagrid. Harry opened the envelope on which Hagrid's scrawled writing read "Harry Potter, 2nd Bedroom, Number Four Privet Drive, Surrey England.

_Harry,_

_How are you? Just thought I'd write to let yeh know that Dumbledore has asked me to visit Headquarters to take care of Beaky, so I get ter see him once a week!_

_Thanks for allowin us to use the place, Dumbledore was glad to know you approved, and his letter is comin back with Hedwig after she goes to Ron's. _

_Heard abou' the mirrors an' all, good idea to give the other to Ron._

_Hope all's well,_

Hagrid 

Harry re-read Hagrid's letter, wishing that he had been a little bit more careful about what he wrote, in case it was intercepted. He then picked up his quill and wrote an answer, to be sent back when Hedwig returned.

_Hagrid,_

_I'm okay, thanks. That's great that you get to see your old friend once a week, I'm sure it will make your summer a happier one than last. It's not a problem letting everyone stay; I wouldn't have used the place anyway._

_Have a good summer, see you soon._

_Harry_

Hermione's letter was on top of his unread mail now, but he decided to read it last, as it would probably be the longest. He instead opened the other two, one was from Moody checking up on him, and the other was from Lupin doing the same, but also thanking him for letting the Order continue to use Sirius's house as headquarters, and to contact him if Harry needed anything. He wrote responses to let them both know he was fine. He then picked up Hermione's fat envelope and opened it. He pulled out a fairly short letter along with American Quidditch Pamphlets and clippings from American Magical Newspapers. He read her letter first.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope that you are having an easier start to summer with the muggles than previous years. I know you're not alright though, so please don't write back to me that you are. I'm sorry I can't be there to listen to you so that you can heal after his death. You are not alone though; everyone knows you're going through a rough time, so talk to people if you need to. Do not underestimate the importance also of letting certain people know if the usual pain returns. Moony would be a good person to tell if you don't feel right telling anyone else. _

_I sent along some things with this letter, I thought it might interest you and anyone else of importance what the American Magic Council is dealing with over here...the clues have been subtle, but I believe there are supporters here as well._

_I also sent some Quidditch Pamphlets along; I thought they'd cheer you up. I've been to a game, New York versus California. The teams here are divided by states._

_I must go, I hope this owl finds you alright, it was the largest they had, but it's a long flight. I'll send you your birthday gift when I get back to England...I didn't want it dropped into the big blue! See you soon!_

_Hermione_

"Now that's a vague letter!" Harry thought proudly, trying and failing to see how an outsider could gather much from it. He decided he'd wait until Hermione was back in Europe before writing to her; he didn't want to subject Hedwig to such a long flight.

Harry stretched out on his bed and let his eyes move in and out of focus as he drifted to sleep. When he opened his eyes, he was looking out at ground level on the kitchen at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Kreacher was sitting on the floor swaying back and forth with a deranged smile on his face. Upon noticing Harry's head among the green flames in front of him, Kreacher the house-elf calmed himself and ambled over to the fireplace.

"Master is gone...gone to the Ministry to find you!" Kreacher stalked away to his cupboard, cackling as he went.

Harry knew differently though...he knew that Sirius Black was upstairs tending to Buckbeak the Hippogriff. Harry pulled his head out of the fire and then walked in, throwing a fistful of floo powder into the flames as he shouted Number 12, Grimmauld Place! As he began to spin, he shut his eyes and pulled his elbows close to his body, trying not to inhale the hot ash. He slid out of the fireplace feet first, onto the kitchen floor of the Black Household.

Harry crept through the hallway to the staircase as quietly as possible to avoid waking the painting of Sirius's mother, which screamed insults at anyone who made too much noise. He climbed the stairs and walked down the hall, to the room at the end, next to the room he slept in during his time at Grimmauld Place. He stared at the door then reached his hand out to the doorknob, just knowing he'd find his godfather on the other side.

As he pushed the door ajar, he could see Buckbeak, sitting against the wall, and the shadow of a man getting food ready for the hippogriff. He could hear movement and decided to venture inside. The man turned to face Harry. He was fairly young, but looked tired and thin. He had scratches along his face, and as the full moon came into view through the window his face began to screw up in pain. This man was Remus Lupin, and before his transformation he muttered, "He is gone Harry. There is nothing for you here right now. Go, before it is too late."

Harry ran out of the room, shutting the door behind him, and reaching into his robes for his wand, trying to ignore the screams from the other side...searching frantically, he couldn't find it.

"Hedwig..." Harry said, opening his eyes to find his bright white owl on her perch. "I have jobs for you!" He seemed to wake instantly, filled with the need to send her off delivering the letters he'd written earlier; Harry forgot his dream. Hedwig had brought food and a letter from Professor Dumbledore. Mince pies, rolls, and cakes...his stomach growled with anticipation. He put the food and the Headmaster's letter aside, fastened the letters he'd written to Hedwig's leg and sent her off into the night.

Miles away, at the Burrow, Ron Weasley looked into a mirror and muttered, "Harry Potter". Harry's face appeared, thanked him for the food, and they discussed Quidditch for at least an hour before breaking the connection.

Several weeks had passed since Harry had dreamt about his godfather. Twice a week he'd sent Hedwig to Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody with letters that read the same two words, "I'm fine." Harry hadn't even felt the usual pain from the lightening bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. Until this morning...

The sun was just beginning to stretch out across England when Harry Potter awoke to the sound of shrill and mirthless laughter, coupled with the sensation that his head might explode, shattering into a thousand tiny pieces. Harry's body instinctively convulsed into the fetal position and he lay there, as the dawn crept on, knowing that Lord Voldemort was pleased.

As the pain slowly subsided, Harry's muscles relaxed and he lay on his side, eyes shut tight against the growing light outside his window, not wanting to return to whatever dream he had but willing himself to sleep all the same. _If I get up now, then I have to acknowledge that I had that dream...maybe if I just fall asleep I'll forget._ As he thought this, he knew he wouldn't forget those red eyes set into the pale serpent-like face. He knew the day drew closer when he would have to fight that face, and either win or lose...kill or be killed. Harry tried to push those dismal thoughts out of his mind as he slowly opened his eyes and sat up.

Harry looked around his room, dimly lit by the early sun. Hedwig was gone...he'd kept her pretty busy this summer, delivering letters to members of the Order twice a week. There was a collection of deliveries below his windowsill, one of which was the Daily Prophet. The face of Lucius Malfoy stared up at him from the paper. Lucius had long slick white-blond hair, the same hair as his son, Draco Malfoy, who was one of Harry's least favorite people. The headline above Lucius's smirking face read, "Death Eater Escapes Azkaban Prison, Dementors Rejoin He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Shit," Harry exclaimed as he unfolded the paper to read the article.

Lucius Malfoy, of Malfoy Manner, escaped from Azkaban Prison last night. Charged a little over a month ago and found guilty of being a Death Eater, Malfoy was sentenced to life in Azkaban Prison. Lucius Malfoy is considered to be in You-Know-Who's innermost circle and should not be approached by anyone other than Ministry officials. If any witch or wizard knows of Malfoy's whereabouts, please contact the Ministry immediately.

It is believed that Lucius's escape, along with the escape of other now-known Death Eaters Crabbe and Goyle, is connected with the parting of the Dementors, former guards of Azkaban Prison. It is believed that they have gone to join You-Know-Who. All witches and wizards are cautioned to avoid Dementors at any cost, and alert the Ministry if you spot one.

Harry threw the paper down on the floor and went immediately to his desk to write letters to Professor Dumbledore, Lupin and Moody. Harry nervously dipped his quill in his ink and wrote:

I am NOT fine. I dreamt about him last night. Lots of pain this morning. He was happy. Read this morning, most displeased and concerned. Please respond A.S.A.P.

_-Harry_

He then copied the letter and sealed all three and sat, waiting for Hedwig to return.

A few hours later, the flap on Harry's door opened and a bony hand pushed through cold and sticky porridge. Harry turned his gaze towards the bowl, the same bowl three times a day with the same meal. Sometimes he ate it, and sometimes he just left it there, which usually resulted in a row through the door with his aunt. Apparently, not eating cold mush that was pushed through his door each day made him an ingrate. Today, Harry didn't feel like eating. He didn't feel like fighting either, so he pushed the contents of the bowl out his window into the garden below. He sat down on his bed, watching the light outside his window grow brighter by the minute, awaiting Hedwig's return.

It must have been at least three o'clock in the afternoon when Hedwig glided in through Harry's open window. He sat stiffly staring at her for a minute before rising and walking over to his desk to fetch the letters he'd written that morning. As he strapped the letters to her legs he instructed her, "Hedwig, I know you're tired...but I need to you deliver these as quickly as possible, and bring responses from all three. Go to Dumbledore first, and then Lupin, go to Moody last as he'll probably want to destroy all of Surrey just to make sure there are no dark wizards here," he finished fastening the letters and finished by saying, "Not that I would mind not dealing with my Aunt and Uncle anymore...Thanks Hedwig."

Harry sat back down on his bed and watched as she flew away, out of sight. As dusk threatened to overtake the sunny outdoors, Harry's gaze fell away from the window to Sirius's box. He picked up his wand and opened the magical barriers, and began to read some more letters and bits of the journals, as he had done at dusk for the past few weeks. Most of the words were written before Voldemort was at his peak, and so most of the letters and journals reflected every day occurrences, however, Harry still enjoyed reading them as he felt like he began to know a bit more about the lives of his parents and godfather.

The flap on Harry's door opened, and a bony hand reached in to take his bowl. About a minute later, the same bowl was returned, filled again with cold and sticky porridge. Harry said nothing to his aunt as he listened to her footsteps carrying her away from his door and down the stairs. He put the contents of Sirius's box back neatly, and sealing the lid he crawled onto the floor and reached under his bed, to the loose floorboard. He pulled out one of Mrs. Weasley's mince pies, and although it was a bit dry by now, he enjoyed it thoroughly.

Harry placed his glasses on his bedside table and lay back on his sheets, ready to fall asleep, when he heard the soft flutter of wings and Hedwig landed on his bed at his side. He sat up, fumbling in the dark for his glasses and his wand. He gently patted Hedwig and saw her fly into her cage and listened as she took some water after her flight. "Lumos." Harry's wand tip ignited so that he could see the responses from Dumbledore, Lupin, and Moody. They all read the same:

Arthur Weasley is coming for you in the morning.

Harry crumpled up the parchment and tossed it onto his floor, and muttering "Nox", he placed his now unlit wand and glasses again on his nightstand and lay back to sleep.

"Harry? Harry...are you there? He's gone missing, Harry..." came Ron's voice from the drawer in Harry's nightstand. Harry gave a great sigh, once again putting on his glasses and igniting his wand, he opened the drawer and extracted a small mirror, in which he could see the face of his best friend.

"Ron, what on EARTH are you going on about? Can't it wait until tomorrow when your dad is coming to get me?" Harry snapped.

"Dad's going to get...? Bloody hell, Harry, don't you read the paper? Percy's gone! He's gone missing! Look, I can see you're in a right state, but just don't mention it to Dad or Mum tomorrow...See you." Ron's face disappeared.

Harry laid back, thinking, his glasses on, wand in one hand, mirror in the other. His thoughts slowly moved into his dreams as the night continued. He did not remember his dreams the next morning when he woke to pack his things.

"Happy Birthday Harry!" yelled the entire Weasley family and Hermione as Harry and Mr. Weasley got up off the hearth floor, dusting the soot off themselves and Harry's things. "Happy sixteenth, mate," Ron said, all frustrations about Harry's grumpiness forgotten. Harry didn't have a chance to answer Ron because Hermione had flung her arms around Harry's neck. "Happy birthday, Harry. We were so worried..."

Harry's sixteenth birthday was the best yet.

Harry was glad to be aboard the Hogwarts Express. This past summer was, to say the least, painful. Even the summer after his fourth year, when he got attacked by dementors and almost got expelled...even that summer wasn't as hard as this last one. Even though he spent the last month at the Burrow and Grimmauld Place, this summer was still the worst. It was getting easier though, he was finally starting to accept the death of his godfather. Visiting Grimmauld Place was especially difficult.

Remus Lupin had not come to the door to greet Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys as they quietly entered the "Most Noble House of Black", headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. Instead, he sat at the kitchen table, an almost-empty glass of fire whisky in his hand. He had, of course, brightened up a bit when he finally noticed their presence, but for the entirety of their two-day visit his mind seemed elsewhere. He looked how Harry had felt all summer long. Harry knew it was because Sirius had been Remus's best friend, since their days at Hogwarts...the last of them to go.

Harry had a difficult time at Grimmauld Place, everywhere he looked reminded him of his godfather, and how he, Harry, had indirectly been responsible for his death. No matter what anyone told him, he would never change his mind about that...he would never forgive himself for his stupidity. On the second day of their visit, Harry had secluded himself in Buckbeak's room, just as Sirius used to do when he was in foul moods. And then, the one good thing about their visit to Number Twelve occurred...Harry heard Hagrid's booming voice downstairs, to be followed of course by Mrs. Black's screaming. Hagrid being the size he was, he was easily able to pull shut the curtains that had flown open to reveal her screeching painted self.

Harry ran down the stairs two at a time and almost knocked over Ron and Hermione, who, until Hagrid had arrived, had been on their way to bring Harry some lunch.

"Alrigh' you three?" Hagrid asked, jovially. The next few hours were filled with laughter. Harry was sure that Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place hadn't been filled with laughter since Christmas almost a year ago. It was then that he decided that Sirius wouldn't have wanted everyone to be sad all the time. He knew he wasn't completely over his godfather's death, but he was getting there.

His remaining summer had rushed past him, and now the Hogwarts Express was speeding along towards its destination. Harry was glad this summer was over. He was glad there weren't any extra tests awaiting him at the end of this year, like last June when he had to take his O.W.L.'s. He had managed to even get an O.W.L. in Potions, and this year he would be starting N.E.W.T. classes. He wasn't looking forward to more class time with Severus Snape, Potions Master and Harry's least favorite teacher, but he wanted to be an Auror...that was, if he could live through the next two years.

The battle with Voldemort...the prophecy...it still weighed heavy on his mind. He swore to himself not only would he vanquish Voldemort, but also he was going to have his revenge on Bellatrix Lestrange as well, for killing Sirius.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Hermione asked, gently. He looked around at his friends, who were all watching him while he was deep in thought.

"No...there's something you all should know. Yes, I think it's time to tell you..." Neville, Ginny, and Luna got up to leave. "Stay. You three were in the Department of Mysteries last June also. Especially Neville...Neville needs to stay." Harry spent the majority of the remaining train ride explaining the prophecy and everything that Dumbledore had explained to him. He finished speaking, and sat waiting for reactions. None came, so he said, "Look, I know things are going to get much more dangerous for me or anyone who hangs around me, so I'll understand if—"

"—Don't be a prat, Harry. We're you're friends. We're going to stick around. There isn't anything you can do to keep us from your side. You have to fight Voldemort? We'll fight Voldemort. Everything that's happened, it hasn't happened for nothing, you know." It was Neville that interrupted him. All the shocked faces in their compartment moved from Harry to Neville. Harry thought he took it very well. Ron and Hermione's reactions, once the information set in, were just how he thought they'd be. Ginny and Luna gave Harry a comforting smile, though he could see fear in their faces, even if they tried to hide it.

But at least they knew. They knew what he was up against. They knew what they were up against. It would only be a matter of time, but until then, Harry felt reassured that he had good friends at his side.

**END**

A/N: Please look for a sequel coming soon...Harry's Sixth Year!


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